Living in Two Worlds

by Anet Paulina

My friend’s diatribe about events reported in the news was mildly annoying, but probably not, I realized, any more annoying to me than my past-life impression about the drugstore clerk was to him. My frequent commentary about how mundane aspects of the outer world are subtly connected —how they relate to my beliefs and focus of attention— must grate on him as much as his comments about political leaders grated on me. It wasn’t that we didn’t respect one another’s opinions and interests. Both of us accepted them as valid; we just didn’t think they were important.

As the global consciousness shift progresses, more and more people are becoming interested in expanding their awareness, but there is still a large segment of the population that is quite happily immersed in the world of the five senses.

I believe that everyone should follow their passion, and if their passion involves fully appreciating the mundane aspects of physical life, then that’s what is most appropriate for them. But in my case, such aspects of life interest me mainly because I see them as reflections of my energy. Much like the illuminated numbers on a biofeedback device, they make me aware of what I’m doing with my energy so I can better adjust it to suit my preferences. In and of itself, outer imagery is not of great importance to me.

This is, I realize, the opposite of how most people look at life. Typically their inner state is considered important only as it can be used to manipulate their outer environment. The pragmatic side of me can appreciate this attitude because it’s one I held for much of my life. Even now, I find myself most interested in spiritual and metaphysical information and methods that can help me achieve tangible results. The “results” may be as subtle as increased self-awareness, but there is a feeling of purposefulness in my motivation. I understand why people tend to focus on useful outcomes, but my definition of useful is broader than most.

Increasingly I see rifts occurring in relationships in which one person prefers to remain immersed in the conventional world and the other is looking for deeper meaning and a new way of living. Can a person who is concerned only with three-dimensional reality be happily partnered with one who is fascinated with exploring what is beyond the physical senses? I don’t have a definitive answer to this question; certainly it’s a matter of degree. But to experience true intimacy, partners (lovers or close friends) must have a world view that is at least somewhat similar. To share your world with someone, you must (metaphorically speaking) live on the same planet.

This awareness hit me like a block of hematite the day I accompanied a group of friends to a wine-tasting bar. The situation was exacerbated by the fact that I don’t like to drink wine, but if I’d been with people who share my interests and beliefs, I could have had a good time even at a pretentious, mediocre wine bar. Not wanting to abandon my date, I sipped ginger ale while enduring over three hours of mundane conversation that left me feeling like a zombie with a pasted-on smile. On the drive home, I realized that I would sooner spend three hours picking up garbage by the roadside in a rainstorm that I would re-experience the wine-bar episode! The group had consisted of intelligent, congenial people that I genuinely liked. What, I wondered, was wrong with me?

The problem was that I was bored — abysmally bored. The discussion of houses, jobs, and vacations (all viewed from only the most superficial perspective) left me feeling like an alien on my own planet. Their world was no better or worse than mine, I acknowledged, but it was distinctly different. I don’t live in that world anymore, and I can’t go back! came the realization. I have to be around people who share my passions, or I will die — in spirit if not in body.

My world is no longer the conventional world, where 3D is king. I’ve graduated from that reality and cannot return, much like an animal freed from its cage who can never again abide living behind bars. And while I can walk among others who still reside in their self-constructed cages, it is impossible for me to partner with them closely without returning to my own cage — which is something I’m not willing to do.

Significant growth occurs when the desire to change — to expand and become more than one is presently —exceeds the desire to stay in one’s safety zone. In many cases, leaving that safety zone involves breaking away from familiar relationships that no longer support your chosen life direction. Traveling companions must be willing to take the same road.